The Right Words
by Subverted
Summary: Sometimes it seemed as though they both struggled to speak, yet the meaning was always conveyed. My first Half-Life fic. Please review.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **This is my first attempt at story-telling within the Half-Life universe. Chronologically this takes place after Gordon arrives at Black Mesa East and meets Eli, Mossman and D.O.G face to face for the first time. Let's just pretend that Valve gives Gordon more than five minutes to catch his breath, shall we?

On a different note, Selective Mutism is an actual DSM-IV diagnosed anxiety disorder. I thought that this was a good reason for Gordon's lack of speech from a storytelling perspective. Look it up if it interests you.

Again, any constructive criticism is appreciated.

* * *

**The Right Words**

"So honey, what did you think?"

Alyx Vance glanced up from the computer readout she had been scrolling through, gracing her father with slightly confused look.

"About what?"

Eli smiled impishly back at her, his kindly, weathered face alight with merriment. "About Gordon, of course."

"Oh." Alyx hesitated for a brief moment, considering what would be the best response. Finally she settled for a one-shouldered shrug and a "He's nice." To emphasis her point she nodded rather curtly, bringing her gaze back to the flickering computer screen. "Doctor Freeman was very nice."

She heard him chuckle. "And?"

"And that's it." Alyx had to bite back the irritation in her voice. She loved her father dearly; he had been her entire world since the death of her mother and the arrival of the Combine, but sometimes his habit of making jokes at her expense or just plain out being embarrassing sometimes became too much for her. Eli Vance, however, thought the jokes never got old.

He limped over to where she was seated, leaning his weight against the desk and crossing his prosthetic leg over his good one.

"It seems to me that you're a little disappointed." He bent down to try and peer into her eyes; Alyx kept her gaze locked stubbornly on the readout. Eli smiled, ever patient, and waited until she could no longer bear the scrutiny. After a few seconds she let out a half-sigh and swivelled in her chair to face him.

"Well...it's stupid but..."

"Yes?"

She shrugged again, averting her eyes from her father's intense gaze. "I don't know. I just got the impression that he didn't like me very much. I mean, I tried being as friendly as I could, but he seemed so...stoic." She lifted her gaze up to his again, a sudden note of indignation creeping into her voice. "And he didn't say a single word to me, Dad, not even when we were playing with D.O.G. I mean, the way he was acting you'd think-

She cut off abruptly when Eli suddenly guffawed loudly, shoulders shaking with mirth. She frowned at him; the familiar and unpleasant sensation that she was once again the butt of another joke began to creep up on her. "What's so funny?"

Eli actually reached up to wipe away a tear. "Oh, honey. Didn't Isaac or Barney tell you?"

"Tell me what?" This constant parroting of his questions was annoying, not to mention the fact that she was beginning to feel rather stupid.

He reached over and placed a gentle hand on her knee, eyes still crinkled with amusement. "Sweetheart, believe me when I say that it's no fault of your own." He paused, and his expression sobered a little before continuing. "Gordon has a rare anxiety disorder called Selective Mutism. He's quite capable of speech, but when he is confronted with situations or events that cause him anxiety or stress, or even just certain people, he simply can't bring himself to speak." At her look of mute horror, he placed a placating hand on her shoulder. "Oh, it's not your fault honey. From what Gordon's told me he's suffered with it for years, ever since he was a boy. Honestly, I would have thought Barney at least would have had the foresight to tell you, but I guess with all the excitement today he just plain old forgot to mention it."

Alyx shook her head in disbelief. _Oh God. I must have sounded so stupid. _She thought back to her first meeting with the young doctor, and cringed inwardly as she recalled what she had said to him in the elevator.

"_Man of few words, aren't you?"_

"Alyx?"

She jumped a little, startled out of her reverie by the sound of her father's voice.

"Yes?"

He smiled kindly at her. "Don't worry about it. Gordon's very understanding; he certainly won't begrudge you the fact that you had no idea. Besides..." His smile turned mischievous, and he wiggled his silvered eyebrows exaggeratedly. "I'm sure it was your ravishing beauty that rendered him speechless, and not the fact that he's had Combine shooting at him all day."

"Dad!" She cried out in mock indignation, giving him a playful punch on the arm. It was amazing how he could make her feel better with such a corny and inappropriate joke at her expense.

He laughed raucously and pushed himself off the desk. "Anyway, it's late. I'm gonna turn in for the night. Why don't you see where Gordon got to and show him where the dormitories are? I'm sure after today he's exhausted as well." He pulled her into an embrace and placed a loving kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight honey. Don't you stay up too late, okay?"

"Okay Dad." She gave him an affectionate squeeze and then exited via the double automatic doors, giving him a little wave goodbye as they closed behind her.

As he hobbled his way upstairs to his private room Eli couldn't help but let his thoughts linger both on his daughter and on the young man who had so suddenly re-appeared back in their lives. Gordon's return wasn't just strange, it seemed downright miraculous, especially considering that his reappearance coincided with the very first test of Kliener's teleporter. It couldn't be just coincidence. In fact to Eli it almost seemed as if the event itself had been somehow...orchestrated.

But there was something else that bothered Eli, a single, recurring thought that niggled at the back of his mind, keeping him awake long into the morning; how was it that in the nearly twenty years that had passed since the resonance cascade Gordon Freeman had remained unchanged? The world had ended when the Combine arrived, but for Gordon Freeman it seemed as if time itself had stopped.

Eli felt a shiver pass through him.

_My God, Gordon. Where have you been all this time?_

_

* * *

  
_

It only took Alyx a few scant seconds to determine where their illustrious guest would be, and a few minutes later she found him in the Mess Hall, which was otherwise empty except for Pierre, the head Vortiguant chef. Gordon himself was sitting at one of the tables, tucking into a steaming hot bowl of headcrab stew that Pierre had obviously been kind enough to warm up for him. At her approach he made as if to stand up, perhaps thinking that she required him for some task, but she quickly waved him back down as she slid into the seat opposite his.

"It's okay Gordon." At her insistence he sat back down slowly, pulling the bowl back towards him in order to finish off his meal. "When you're done I'll show you where the dorms are, so you can get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded emphatically over the rim of his bowl, still shovelling the food into his mouth with gusto.

Alyx felt a presence behind her and looked up to see Pierre; she had to stifle a giggle at the sight of the chef's hat balanced rather precariously on his football shaped head.

"The Freeman is quite ravenous, it seems. This is his third helping. Even the fact that the stew is made from headcrabs does not deter him." The Vortigaunt inclined his slender neck downwards to peer at her, his many eyes blinking in unison. "Does the Alyx Vance also wish for sustenance?"

She patted his clawed hand affectionately. "No thank you, Pierre. I'm just here to look after our guest." She glanced back at Gordon, who was still completely engrossed in his meal. "Where's his H.E.V suit?"

"Some of my kin have taken the suit in order to recharge it. It shall be returned to him in due time."

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Pierre." There was a clatter from across the table, and she looked back to see that Gordon had finished. There was a splash of gravy clinging to the whiskers on his chin, which he hurriedly wiped away with the back of his sleeve. His gaze settled on hers and he smiled awkwardly.

She stood up, picking some imaginary lint from the sleeve of her jacket. "Ready to go?"

He nodded, and then turned his attention back to Pierre, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of thanks.

The Vortigaunt returned in kind. "The Freeman is most welcome."

* * *

The short walk upstairs to the dorms was painfully quiet. Since her revelation in the lab earlier in the evening Alyx had taken it upon herself not to place any pressure on Gordon to talk, indirectly or not. She'd realised that during their first meeting she had babbled almost incessantly at the young doctor, no doubt making him rather uncomfortable. She was determined to nip that particular habit right in the bud.

"Here." She said finally as they reached their destination. She pushed open the door and flicked on the light switch to reveal a rather drab and sparsely furnished room, the walls and floor all made of concrete. A single cot was pushed into the corner, next to which stood a small bedside table. Other than the beat up looking desk and chair on the opposite side of the room there was very little else occupying the small space. Gordon turned to look at her.

She shrugged. "I know, it's not five star, but at least here you don't have to worry about Civil Protection busting down your door in the middle of the night, right?"

He nodded, a small smile curving up the corners of his lips. Alyx noticed with no small amount of surprise that when he smiled it produced a warm, pleasant feeling in her chest. Similar to what she felt when she was with her father, yet different.

She shook it off and pointed behind her. "My room's at the end of the hall, second last door on your left. If you need anything, just knock, okay?"

He followed the line of her arm with his eyes and then flicked his gaze back to her face. She expected him to simply nod again, but to her astonishment he licked his lips and then opened and shut his mouth in rapid succession.

Alyx blinked. _What is he...?_

His brow furrowed and he shuffled awkwardly on his feet. Alyx watched as once again he opened his mouth to try to speak; his Adam's apple bobbed up and down furiously, his throat clenched as the muscles seized up, blocking the words he was trying to produce. Alyx felt a sharp twinge of empathy. It was obviously a struggle for him.

"Hey." She whispered, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm. "It's okay. Dad told me about your..." _What? Condition? Affliction? Disability? Oh my God, it makes him sound like some kind of invalid!_

She realised that he was staring at her, waiting for her to finish her original statement. At the sight of his forlorn expression she gently moved her hand up his arm to pat him gently on the shoulder. "Dad told me why you don't speak. Please don't feel as though you have to force yourself for my benefit. Besides, I know what it is that you're trying to say."

He nodded his assent, gratitude clearly written all over his features. He half turned towards the open door and Alyx took that as her cue that it was time for her to leave.

"Goodnight." She whispered as he began to pull the door shut. He paused for a few moments to look back out at her. In the dim light of the hall his face seemed drawn and tired, but the expression was warm, the green eyes piercing against the almost colourless background of the base. Then there was a soft click as he shut the door, and Alyx found herself alone in the cold hallway.

* * *

She wasn't usually able to recall her dreams, but when Alyx Vance awoke the next morning she could still feel the ghostly sensation of strong, warm arms wrapped around her shoulders, and the comforting, reverberating murmur of the voice of a man she had yet to hear.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note: **The feedback I received for the first chapter was very positive, and has bolstered me to take a shot at expanding this into a multi-chaptered story. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, your encouragement means a great deal.

**The Right Words**

**Chapter One  
**

Alyx glared at the dingy two way radio, worrying her bottom lip as she counted the multitude of dents and cracks in its battered plastic casing. She'd been in contact with Leon and Anna, both of whom were stationed at Shorepoint, to see if anyone had seen or heard from Gordon since he'd had to hightail it to Ravenholm after last night's Overwatch raid. The only other way in or out of Ravenholm was the mine, and since Shorepoint was the closet rebel outpost, it would make sense that he would make his way there. But Leon had been insistent that the only things that had crawled out of Ravenholm since the bombardment had been zombies and the occasional headcrab looking for a new host. Alyx bit down on her lip so hard she could taste blood, the coppery tang causing her stomach to lurch with horrified dread.

_I killed him. I sent Gordon Freeman to his death._

The transmitter sputtered; Leon's haggard face flickered onto the filmy screen.

"Alyx? Are you there?"

She jolted forward in her seat, the sudden momentum almost causing her to topple over. She adjusted the receiver to get a better picture and frequency, and as Leon's face came into focus she saw flecks of blood spattered across his face, the dull shine of perspiration on his brow.

"Is everyone alright?"

Leon nodded, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Yeah, we're all good. Winston's been hit, but it's not serious." He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Fucking scout group got the jump on us. They had us pinned down pretty good, that is, until back-up arrived."

Alyx caught a flash of movement in the upper left hand corner of the tiny screen; Leon's torso was suddenly out of her field of vision, replaced by the squinting visage of one Doctor Gordon Freeman. He was cleaning his glasses on an old piece of rag, his eyes scrunched up as he tried to focus on the screen without their aid. The overwhelming feeling of relief that she had experienced upon seeing him, alive and whole, was now edged with the slightest twinge of amusement as she watched him creep closer, bending down almost level to the table so he could peer in at her.

_Ah, so he's nearsighted..._

Leon re-appeared suddenly, all but barrelling the young physicist out of his way. "What's the situation over there? Anna told me that Dr. Vance had been captured."

Her good humour disappeared instantly as she recalled what had occurred only hours ago. "Yeah. The Vortiguants tracked the ship that took both him and to Nova Prospekt. I'm gonna hitch a ride on one of the trains while they're still running and go in after them."

Leon gaped at her, incredulous. "You wanna sneak into Nova Prospekt? That's insane."

"It's easier sneaking in than breaking out. Besides, this is my father we're talking about here, Leon. I can't just leave him there."

"Alright." The rebel let out a resigned sigh. "What do you need?"

"Do you still have the scout car I left with you last summer? The one my dad rigged with the tau cannon?" At his affirmative nod she switched her attention to Gordon, who had been watching their conversation with keen interest. "Good. Then this is where you come in Gordon. I need you to make your way up the coast and meet me at Nova Prospekt, at the train depot. I'll need your help to get my dad and Dr. Mossman out of there."

Gordon nodded resolutely, clutching his newly acquired pulse rifle tighter against himself. Beside him, Leon scratched idly at the rough layer of stubble on his cheek, letting out a dry bark of laughter.

"Heh. It's a good thing we got that scout car too, cause you wouldn't last five minutes out there on foot, what with it being spawning season for the antlions and all." At Gordon's befuddled expression, he hesitated, coughing nervously into his hand. "You, uh, did know about the antlions, didn't you?"

The doctor merely blinked back at him as way of a response, then peered back at Alyx. Even through the static and white noise she could see the confusion etched clearly across his features. It was the face of someone who had never seen an antlion before, never experienced their single-minded viciousness and predatory cunning. Alyx's brow pinched in concern.

_What the...he doesn't know what an antlion is? Does he even know what we've been discussing all this time?!_

Leon attempted to give Gordon a manly, reassuring slap on the back, but succeeded only in hurting his hand as it came into violent contact with the harsh, unyielding metal of the H.E.V suits' back plate. He yelped, shaking the sting out of his fingers.

"Damn." When Gordon turned towards him again, he gave the young man a crooked smile. "Hey, don't worry about it, Doc. Antlions are dangerous, sure, but they're dumb too. I mean, really dumb. They pretty much just act on instinct alone. Just run 'em over with the car and stick close to the thumpers when you can, and you'll be fine."

The look on Gordon's face spoke volumes; he was not convinced. The One Free Man, The Opener of the Way, doubted his ability to carry out the mission set before him. He suddenly looked very vulnerable, and Alyx found herself wishing that she was there with him, to act as his guide through the dangers he was about to face. She felt the slight prickling of tears behind her eyes as she realized that maybe, just maybe, this would be the last time she would ever see him.

_No. Cut that crap out right now. You never, ever say goodbye._

"Gordon." At the sound of his name he turned back towards the screen, and even though he was putting up a brave front she could see the lines of worry on his brow, and the way his mouth creased downward in a tight grimace. He was probably contemplating a future not all that dissimilar from what she had just imagined.

_Don't think like that, Gordon. We'll see each other again. I promise._

"Take care of yourself, and I'll see you at Nova Prospekt."

The words sounded hollow even to her ears, but strangely enough they seemed to bring Gordon a small measure of comfort, nodding a wordless goodbye before his image flickered and then disappeared completely from the screen. Alyx drew her hand away from the rusted receiver, noticing for the first time that her fingers were trembling, ever so slightly.

She let out a shaky breath.

_Dad...Gordon...don't leave without me.

* * *

  
_

Something wet and warm trickled slowly down the nape of his neck, causing his skin to prickle in irritation. Gordon arched his head back and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the slight discomfort. He didn't dare remove his hand from the pulse rifle he was toting to scratch at it; the weapon was highly effective yet damned heavy, and knowing his luck the instant he faltered a whole freaking squadron of Combine troops would come barrelling around the nearest corner to blast the shit out of him. It always happened like that. _Always._

There was a sudden, low rumbling, the sound so loud and frightening close that it made his teeth vibrate. Instantly he ducked down behind some fallen debris, his entire body knotted with dread anticipation, trigger finger poised and ready. A horn blared out over the rhythmic, mechanical thundering, and after a few moments of incomprehension Gordon realised that what he was hearing was the sound of a train passing very close nearby. His face relaxed into a weary, relieved smile.

_Thank God._

He slinked forward a few extra metres, still keeping close to the ground. Up ahead the train platform was brightly lit, providing him with an excellent view of the train as it rattled past, as well as that of his newest friend, Alyx Vance, tinkering away at some Combine machinery, her pretty face stern in its countenance as she studied the readout. He was just about to give her some kind of signal that he had arrived ( he wasn't exactly sure what, maybe he could throw a pebble at her or something) when a bullet whizzed past her head, dangerously close, and embedded itself into the steel beam in front of her. Gordon jumped in alarm; she merely pivoted on her heel, upholstering the pistol from her hip and placing three bullets of her own neatly between the eyes of the trans-human soldier who had almost succeeded in making her one of his many kills. The figure crumpled lifelessly to the floor, rolling off the platform and underneath the tracks, a dark smear of gore trailing after it. Alyx watched it go with an expression of repugnance.

Gordon rose to his full height and trudged slowly towards her, heartened to see a friendly face after he'd spent hours of staring at the warped abjection of humanity the trans-human forces presented. His boots kicked up small chunks of concrete and steel as he walked; Alyx whirled around violently at the noise, the muzzle of her pistol aimed squarely at his chest.

"Hold it right there!"

He froze and instinctively raised both hands up in a gesture of supplication, the pulse rifle clattering noisily to the floor. He couldn't help but wince at how stupid he probably looked right now.

Alyx blinked and took a hesitant step forward; trans-human soldiers almost never retreated from such an outright challenge, and they certainly didn't drop their weapons like clumsy idiots. The figure in the shadows rocked nervously on his feet and inclined his head slightly, the overhead light reflecting off his glasses. Alyx relaxed, easily breaking off her combat stance.

"Gordon! Thank God." She holstered the pistol and stepped forward to meet him as he came out of the shadows, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unscathed. "It's so good to see you."

He smiled widely at her, showing his even, white teeth. She mirrored the expression back at him for a brief moment, and then turned to stare upwards, her gaze contemplative. He followed suit, noticing for the first time the endless rows of strange metallic pods stacked along the farthest wall of the colossal structure they were in. They seemed to stretch into infinity in both directions.

"My father's out there somewhere."

Gordon balked at her words. _He's in one of those...canisters? Jesus, it'll take us forever to find him. _Another drop of sweat rolled languidly down his neck, and he rubbed at it irritably, scowling. Alyx noticed him fidgeting out of the corner of her eye, and then suddenly sucked in a sharp breath.

"Gordon!"

She lunged forward, snatching his hand away and pushing his head somewhat roughly to the side, her attention now focused solely on his nape. He felt her fingers questing lightly on the skin there, warm and smooth, before they brushed against...something.

_Shit. What is it?_

She pulled her fingers away, bringing them up to his eye level so he could clearly see the blood smeared across them.

_Oh._

"There's a shard of glass half an inch long in your neck, Gordon. Didn't you know that?"

He shrugged, because honestly, no, he hadn't known about it. The suits' steady supply of morphine had been keeping him pleasantly numb for most of the day.

"Holy crap." She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the console she had been perusing earlier, pulling out a small, metal stool which had been stored neatly underneath it. She pushed him none too gently into the seat.

"Just give me a minute and I'll patch that up, okay?"

Gordon huffed, wanting to tell her that it really wasn't needed, that the suit provided more than adequate protection, not to mention medical treatment whenever he was injured. But of course as per usual his throat closed up, and the only sound he could produce was a short, indignant sigh as he obediently bent forward to present to her the back of his head. He heard her giggle somewhere from above.

"Don't worry, Gordon. I'll be very gentle. If you're a good boy I might even give you a lollipop."

The giggle transformed into a deep, full throated chuckle as she stepped closer to him. Gordon rolled his eyes.

_Ha-ha. How very droll. Just hurry up and yank it out already._

She placed both hands gently on the nape of his neck, the fingers of her right hand stroking almost idly through the short dark hairs there for a few brief seconds, the gesture causing an unbidden, delighted shiver to pass through him. He didn't know if the action was intentional or not, but damn, it felt _good. _

Then there was a pinch and a short, sharp twinge of pain as she closed her fingers on the offending object and pulled it roughly out of his flesh. Gordon hissed a little at the sudden discomfort, clutching instinctively at the back of his neck as she squatted down beside him, the small glass shard held delicately between thumb and forefinger.

"Ouch." She studied the bloodied shard for a moment before carelessly tossing it over her shoulder. She wiped her hand nonchalantly on the front of her shirt, leaving faint traces of his blood on the grey cotton. With her other hand she reached over and placed pressure on the fingers he already had pressed against the wound, helping him to stop the steady trickle of fluid.

"Guess you're not as indestructible as everyone says you are, huh?"

He nodded, only really half registering her words because he was too busy enjoying the close proximity or her body, the soft warmth of her fingertips as they brushed against his bare skin. A small, distant part of his mind informed him that he really shouldn't be allowing himself this one little indulgence. They barely knew each other, and this was Eli Vance's _daughter for Christ's sake. _Gordon had figured out quickly that the Government Man who had stalked him so relentlessly back at Black Mesa and then forcibly 'employed' him had somehow managed to deposit him nearly twenty years into the future in the blink of an eye. Two days ago Alyx Vance had just celebrated her sixth birthday. Now here she was, no longer a child but a proud, strong woman, risking her life again and again for the sake of the Rebellion. She had obviously seen and experienced much in the time that he had been absent, locked away in that...trans-dimensional storage room, or whatever the hell it had been. Gordon realised then that he needed her by his side, probably a lot more than she needed him.

She scooted closer, as if sensing his dark mood, and bumped his knee playfully with her own.

"Hey, don't worry about it Gordon. I'll stick with you from now on, okay?"

Gordon smiled. _Yeah. I'd like that._


	3. Chapter Two

**The Right Words  
**

**Chapter Two  
**

Eli snapped back into consciouness quickly, the transistion from unatural, dreamless sleep to a full waking state so sudden it felt like the mental equivalent of whiplash. He groaned and tried to stretch his neck in what little space was afforded him inside the hibernation pod; he felt the old bones there creak in protest, along with the rest of his body at having been crammed in this sardine tin for the last ten hours. The combine were as lacking in their understanding of hospitality as they were in basic human rights.

The pod doors swung open. Eli expected to be greeted by a troup of armed soldiers, or perhaps even Breen himself _(the bastard)_ with that smug, superior little grin that he always seemed to have. Instead he saw Alyx, all beautiful heart-shaped face and wide worried eyes, staring at him longingly from behind the smooth glass of an observation window. Behind her Gordon was wiping his nose on the back of the H.E.V's glove, looking heroic and oddly awkward at the same time.

"Dad!" Alyx pressed her hands against the glass, as if she could still reach out and touch him despite the barrier between them. "Thank God we found you!"

Eli blinked, trying to clear the sluggishness from his brain. When activated, the hibernation pods released a kind of anesthetic agent which induced depression of consciousness, albeit remarkably still allowing the victim to breathe without any kind of respitory aid. _Wonderful technology, _he thought grimly, watching Alyx's mouth move but not actually hearing her words, _too bad it's been used to aid in the slaughter of the human race._

Alyx was still talking. "Dad! Are you alright?"

He smiled back at her, despite the uncomfortabaly dry, sandpaper feel of his mouth. "I'm fine honey, but you two..." his words slowed for an instant as he let his gaze travel over to Gordon. The poor boy looked like he'd been put through a thresher; the H.E.V suit liberally scoured with dents, gouges and _dear God_ were those bullet holes? Gordon's face was shiny with persperation, the skin underneath his eyes darkened and bruised through lack of sleep. Dried blood matted his hair just above his right temple, indicating where he'd had a near miss with a combine bullet. But despite his ragged appearance the young man's face was aglow with relief at seeing his old comrade alive, even managing a weary smile up at him. Eli felt a painful clenching in his chest; a mixture of pride and sorrow meant for the two people before him. _So young. _The words echoed in his head, maginifying the sudden, inexorable sadness that now swept over him. _So young and yet already so broken. How can I ever..._

"Dad! What's wrong?"

With a start he realised he'd stopped speaking entirely. He smiled at her reasurringly, trying to ignore the fogginess in his head and the woeful ache the sight of her fresh young face covered in dirt and blood caused him. "It's okay, Alyx, I'm fine. But you two have got to get the hell out of here. If they catch you..." The image of a Stalker flashed behind his eyes, and he had to bite back the cry of horror that instinctively rose in his throat at the thought of his baby girl being transformed into such an abberation. Resistance members rarely encountered them, as they were meant as drones suited to more technical, menial tasks rather than combat. But despite thier apparent harmlessness they were always put down on sight; everyone knew that death was a tender mercy, rather than the alternative: a lifetime of mindless slavery, trapped in a body that was little more than a withered husk. He swallowed thickly, forcing his voice to be steady. "It's not worth the risk. Get out while you still can!"

Alyx remained steadfast, her expression determined. "We're not leaving without you. If we can get to the portal chamber we can all get out together." She glanced over her shoulder at Gordon for approval. He nodded in reply, still wiping furiously at his nose. Eli noticed that the back of his hand was spotted with drops of fresh blood.

"But where will we go?" Eli dragged his gaze away from the doctor, who was now making thick snorting sounds as he attempted to clear the mucus and blood from his nostrils. Alyx's eyes lingered on Gordon for a few moments, her expression unreadable, before she turned back towards her father.

"I should be able to recalibrate the combine portal to send us to Dr. Kleiner's lab. His portal is almost fully repaired. If it's working by the time we leave we'll end up there. If not..." She hesistated, fixing her father with a look that was both apologetic and resigned. "Well, anywhere's better than here."

_You have a point there, honey. _Then, suddenly, he remembered. "Oh, God! Judith! We can't just leave her here!"

"Don't worry. Gordon and I will find her. For now I'll send you to the portal chamber." She drew closer to the glass again, placing two fingers against its surface in a loving gesture. Eli knew that if not for the glass between them she would have kissed him instead.

"I'm not saying goodbye Dad. I'll meet you there."

"I know you will."

They were not just empty words. Eli knew that his girl would keep to her promise. It was how he had raised her after all. Never give up. Never say goodbye. Never leave anyone behind.

Still, he couldn't help the icy fear which even now gnawed at his heart, even when faced with the evidence of his daughter's courage and tenacity. She'd survived so much up until now, but the combine were becoming impatient, growing more brutal and efficient in their dealings with the resistance. And he was growing older, frailer. More of late he was beginning to feel more of a liability to the resistance than an actual leader, despite everyone's protests to the contrary. But the dull, almost constant ache in his tired bones and the lingering sorrow in his heart was telling him that time was against him.

_It doesn't matter. _He thought resolutely, keeping his eyes on his daughter's beautiful face even as the pod began to lift up and away from the observation window. _My baby girl is strong. She'll do well, with or without me._

As the pod doors began to close he continued to watch her, cementing her image into his mind's eye. Behind her Gordon waved at him, before blowing a disgusting blob of crimson stained phlegm out of his nose and onto the floor. Alyx turned at the noise, giving him a sharp glare, while he continued to snort and sniffle miserably, nose still dribbling blood. Just before the doors snapped shut on him he caught a glimpse of her sighing, almost dramatically, before pulling a rag from her back pocket to press it gently against his face, stemming the flow. The gesture was practical yet also...dare he think it? Caring.

Eli laughed into the surrounding darkness, his spirits bolstered and his heart feeler lighter than it had in years. Even when he heard the distinct _hiss _of the gas release system he continued to chuckle.

_Whoever said chivalry was dead?_

Darkness stole his thoughts away, and Eli descended once again into sleep.


	4. Chapter Three

**Author's Note: **I would like to take a moment to thank all of you who have reviewed. Your graciousness and positive encouragement has been wonderful, and I am glad this work has brought so many of you such enjoyment. I hope it continues to do so.

I also apologise for how long it has taken me to update. My life has become much more busy as of late, therefore I have less time for writing. However, I shall continue to update as often as I am able.

**The Right Words**

**Chapter Three  
**

_Nova Prospekt: Block D-8_

The name was bland enough, but oh, how the memory of this place would stay with him...

"_Gordon, get those turrets set up! There's a mother load of soldiers heading your way!"_

He was ready to shit his pants. From what Alyx was describing to him, an entire legion of trans-human forces was about to bear down on him, and all he had left to defend himself with was a pulse rifle with less than ten shots, the Gravity Gun, and three of the most unstable, poorly constructed gun turrets he had ever laid eyes on. Sure, they packed a decent punch, but if you did so much as fart on them they would topple over and flail about uselessly, like fish dragged out onto dry land. They were hardly the best defence when it came to taking a heroic stand against an unrelenting enemy.

He stared at the turrets snuggled in their storage units uselessly, even as Alyx continued to babble on anxiously, her voice sounding very small and tinny coming from his suit's radio receiver.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do with these things? They won't last five seconds against the hoard!_

"_More soldiers, Gordon! Hurry!"_

He glared darkly at the middle storage compartment, where a fourth turret should have been housed, but it was depressingly empty.

_Typical. I don't even get the full set..._

Something suddenly clicked into place in the back of his mind as he gazed blankly at that small, unoccupied space. It looked very cramped and tight...

He had barely enough time to pull the turrets out of their holding spaces, activate them, and then put them back in place, their muzzles flashing dangerously as they scanned for any viable target. Just as he crammed himself into the remaining vacant alcove the first soldier rounded the corner, his shotgun already firing. The pellets missed Gordon by mere millimetres.

Gordon gasped reflexively, the stench of his own sweat and blood filling his nostrils. _Oh God, please let this work..._

The soldier squawked something unintelligible and rounded to face him, pumping the shotgun in readiness for another blast. Gordon lifted the rifle, intending to use the last ten rounds to finish him off, but before his finger even grazed the trigger the turret on his left suddenly came to life with a shrieking cry. The soldier barely had time to emit a garbled cry of _**"Oh shit!"**_before he was mowed down rather unceremoniously, his body punctured and bleeding. The turret gave a small trill of what suspiciously sounded like satisfaction before quietly shutting down again. Gordon could only gawk openly at the corpse.

_Oh wow...it actually worked..._

"_**Target acquired. Moving in."**_

Boots thumped rhythmically against dirty concrete as the fallen soldier's comrades moved in for the kill. From the general direction of the noise Gordon could tell they were coming in at him from both sides; a pincer movement.

"_**Look out. He's got turrets."**_

"_**Take 'em out."**_

"_**Yes sir."**_

The footsteps stopped abruptly, followed by a soft metallic _tink! _sound as something small and cylindrical bounced into his line of vision, rolling to a stop a mere three feet from his alcove. The turrets whirred menacingly at it but held their fire.

Gordon stared at the thing. It flashed back at him, a single, glaring red eye that began to blink faster.

With a strangled yelp Gordon lifted the gravity gun and activated its primary trigger, the grenade skittering across the floor to hover dangerously close, held tight in the device's gravitational field. It was blinking faster now, and began to emit a high pitched trill.

He didn't even bother to look where he was throwing. He just twisted and leaned bodily out of the compartment, squeezing the trigger with enough force to make the bones in his hand crack. The grenade was explosively flung outward, screaming its final warning...

Right into the waiting horde.

These ones didn't even get the chance to scream, let alone duck for cover. The resulting explosion was deafeningly loud and threw Gordon back against the inner wall of the compartment so hard two of his ribs broke. Blood and faintly smoking chunks of flesh spattered against the adjacent wall. Everything around him spun nauseatingly, a macabre kaleidoscope of gore, pain and a terrible, high shrieking, like the sound of some kind of animal being tortured. He threw up and then slid, boneless, to the floor.

"_**What the fuck?!"**_

"_**Move in, goddammit! Just shoot that motherfucker!"**_

There was a stampede of noise; a thundering of inhuman feet as every soldier in Nova Prosepkt descended on Block D-8, with every one of them intent on butchering him. The turrets screamed, thirsty for carnage, and the soldiers began to scream along with them as they were mowed down. Sluggishly Gordon pulled up the rifle, aiming to take out any who managed to make it through the barrage, but then realised with a start that his vision was blurry and that his glasses must have been knocked off by the explosion. He began to fumble around for them awkwardly in the tiny space, his mind instantly latching onto something, _anything_, to distract him from the slaughter taking place a mere three feet away from him.

_Jeez, I hope they haven't been broken..._

There was a wet, gurgling cry; something landed _inside_ the compartment and clawed at his lower torso, gloved fingers leaving slick red marks on the cold fabric of his suit.

_Oh sweet Jesus fuck no oh GOD GET OFF ME!!_

Gordon wrestled with his attacker, but the soldier was already in his death throes, heaving in spasmodic fits as Gordon pushed him away frantically, first with his knees and then with his feet. Another oncoming soldier tripped over the body and, as a result, received about a dozen bullets to the face.

Suddenly, Alyx's voice, a shining, beautiful beacon of normalcy amidst the chaos, sounded in his ear.

"_Just hang on Gordon! I'll be there in a few minutes, just hang on!"_

He groped blindly for the transmission button, jamming it forcefully under his knuckle as he sucked in a ragged, useless breath, wanting to talk to her, to scream at her, to beg her to stay away _(save me) _to just get out now and save herself _(don't leave me alone) _to get her father and Judith and to just get the hell out and _oh god why did you bring me here!?_

Block D-8 continued to echo with the sounds of slaughter. The One Free Man remained, as always, silent and resolute. But on the inside, he was screaming.

* * *

The noise coming from her radio had stopped less than a minute ago, but Alyx pushed herself onward, ignoring the burning in her lungs. The cacophony of sounds that she had heard; it had been a goddamn warzone, but worse than that was the heavy, ragged breathing laced over the sounds of battle. A person only made that kind of noise if they were terrified, or injured.

Or they were dying.

_Oh Jesus, Gordon._

She bolted down the last flight of stairs and launched herself heedlessly over the railing, rolling to soften the landing. She brought her pistol about, anticipating the onslaught of fire.

Nothing came.

The air in Block D-8 was thick with the stench of smoke and fresh blood, but it was also completely still. The only movement came from particles of dust as they floated lazily back down to the ground, heedless of the carnage that had just taken place.

_Oh my God. What the hell happened here?_

As she scanned the area her gaze fell upon a brightly lit storage room, and the back of her throat closed up against the urge to gag as she saw the mounds of bodies, haphazardly stacked and heaped on top of each other. The nearby sound of faintly whirring turrets confirmed that Gordon had heeded her advice about using them, but good God, where was he?

She inched closer, keeping herself pressed against the wall. Something crunched wetly underfoot and but she didn't dare to look down to see what it was, because she could already see that some of them were scattered in pieces across the floor...

Arms trembling ever so slightly, the archway came into her direct line of sight. She swallowed thickly.

_Oh God. Gordon._

He was slumped, half sitting, half kneeling, just inside one of the turret storage compartments. It was obvious that he had crawled in there to escape the wrath about to bear down on him, using the turrets as a last line of defence. It was ingenious actually, how he had set it all up. The alcove had served well in its function of keeping him out of the enemy's immediate line of sight, while the turrets had provided remarkably good covering fire, since the tight space of their encasing had prevented them from being easily knocked over. The soldiers had, quite simply, walked into a trap.

But Alyx wasn't thinking about that, because all she could see right now was the man she had left alone to fight this horror. All she could see was the gore painted thickly on the walls and the bodies and this one man, this man whom they all pinned their hopes and dreams and who, right at this moment, looked dead inside.

This man...who she had failed.

The pistol clattered from her fingers. She paid it no mind as she rushed forward to gather him in an embrace, useless apologies spilling from her lips. She threaded her fingers through his hair and they came away wet with blood.

"Goddammit...fuck! Oh God, Gordon, I'm so sorry. I should have been here."

In her arms, Gordon sighed and pulled her tighter against himself, his temple resting against her collarbone.

The sound of her heartbeat, sweet and constant, drowned out her words.


	5. Interlude: The First

**Author's note: **It has taken me far too long to write this, and I'm very sorry for making everyone wait. Your patience is astounding!

* * *

**Interlude-The First**

_Cherry Hill, Seattle. 1986._

_12.09 am_

"Dad?"

Gordon squinted in the darkness, just able to make out the muted flicker of soft blue light coming from the living room at the end of the hallway. The soft strains of _Late Night with David Letterman_ sounded eerie in the otherwise completely silent house, and despite himself Gordon felt strangely afraid, the cold stillness of the night making the usually comfortable familiarity of the house now seem alien and malign.

He straightened himself up, shaking the feeling from his scrawny frame.

_Don't be a wuss._

Like any self respecting ten year boy there were a few things which one was loathe to admitting, even in the private sanctity of one's own mind. A fear of the dark was one of them, right up there along with still wanting your mother to tuck you in at night and thinking that Sandy Williams from math class was kind of cute. And despite his young age Gordon already was in possession of a healthy amount of pride, so he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind and began to shuffle across the cold floor. For a brief moment he wondered if maybe he should head back to the bedroom to retrieve his glasses, then quickly thought better of it. He didn't really need them to watch the T.V anyway, as long as he sat near enough.

The light at the end of the corridor drew closer; Gordon could hear laughter, then the sounds of a band starting up. He hoped he hadn't already missed all of _Late Nights'_ skits. They were the best part of the show.

_Maybe Dad will let me stay up if I ask nicely enough._

It was a Thursday night, and Gordon had school in the morning. But occasionally, after he'd gotten in late from work and was in a good enough mood, his father would let him stay up and watch Letterman. It was one of the few times Gordon ever got to spend any real quality time with his father, and he always grasped the opportunity whenever he could.

He crept around the corner carefully, his toes coming into sudden contact with the plush carpet of the living room floor. The television blared and flickered obnoxiously; a beacon of noise and light in the darkness. In the far corner, Albert, the family Labrador, lay curled, his wet, black nose tucked almost underneath his tail. At the sound of Gordon's shuffling footsteps the dog lifted his head sleepily, watching the boy. He thumped his tail once, twice against the floor in greeting before yawning widely and flopping back down on the mat, obviously too comfortable to bother getting up. As for his father, he was sprawled inelegantly on the couch, arm hanging limply over the side, head lolling. Gordon noticed that he'd not bothered to take off his work boots before collapsing there, and as a result the carpet around his feet was now liberally dusted with sizeable chunks of dried mud and sand, the grime having been carried into the house on the bottom of his boots. Gordon sighed.

_Mom will have a fit when she sees that._

His father's head leaned to the side, mouth hanging open. A thin line of drool glistened on the stubble on his chin. Exasperated, Gordon reached over gently and grasped him by the shoulder, shaking him.

"Dad, wake up."

The motion caused his father's head to roll from side to side limply. It made him look like a broken marionette. He didn't stir.

Gordon frowned, and shook him harder.

"Hey Dad."

His chin dropped to his chest. The movement was lifeless and heavy, and something awful began to gnaw at the inside of Gordon's belly.

"...Dad?"

With trembling fingers, he reached over and placed his hand underneath his father's chin, and lifted it. The jaw snapped shut reflexively. A thread of salvia dripped onto Gordon's hand and he flinched at how cold it was, and as he held the man's head upright he finally realized that he couldn't feel any breath being expelled against his flesh.

Some small, far away part of his mind noticed how pale his skin was compared to his father's bronzed complexion, the result of many long hours spent working out in the elements to provide for his family. He'd always been an outdoors person, believing that the only honest way to make a living was by the sweat of your brow. He was all hard lines and solid muscle, stern and powerful. Gordon had spent his as of yet brief existence awed and slightly terrified of his presence.

But the thing slumped on the couch was not his father. It was now just part of the scenery, a lump of dead flesh.

Gordon stood there, paralysed, the horror beginning to creep over him, feeling the leaden weight of his father's head in his hands. He let out a low, trembling whine, the panic of his realization rendering him motionless. From the far corner Albert lurched to his feet and padded over, pushing his snout against the boy's thigh, sensing his distress. Gordon didn't feel the contact, didn't register the animal's presence.

_Dad...he's not...oh no, oh no no no no..._

Behind him the flickering light of the T.V began to slow its' erractic, staccoto rhythm. Albert's lips wrinkled back from his teeth, a warning snarl begining to issue forth from deep within his chest, the fur along his shoulder blades rising up. The sound became sluggish, the growl drawing out into a strangled purr before stopping altogether. Part of Gordon wanted to turn his head to see what was wrong with the dog, but his muscles did not respond to the command from his brain. He blinked, and his eyelids moved thickly, as if they were made from wet clay.

_What's...what's happening? Dad? Dad!...I...I can't move!_

Letterman's voice warped, becoming unintelliagible and demonic. The audience shrieked and whooped, a thousand lost souls crying out for salvation. And as Gordon watched with frozen eyes a figure materialized behind the couch, looming over his father's still body. It watched him stoically for a moment, features hidden in shadow, and then reached over slowly to brush some imaginary lint from the corpses' shoulder.

_"Ah...young Mister Freeman."_

It looked like a man, or something masquerading as a man. Whatever it was it-he-seemed just slightly uncomfortable, his movements stiff, the posture too rigid, head held just too slightly erect. As the stranger moved jerkily around the couch towards him he saw the clean pressed lines of a business suit, plain black leather briefcase clutched too tightly in one cold pale hand. Light passed over the man's face for a moment and from the corner of his eye Gordon caught a glimpse of sharp cheekbones, drawn and gaunt. It was a visage that looked as though it had been carved out of plastic.

_"I know that this p-particular...moment is difficult for...you, but my superiors are adamant that now is the most op-por-tune time in which to direct...you towards your proper course."_

The voice was hollow and forced. The man's eyes slid over to regard the body on the couch and Gordon saw them, making his terror increase ten-fold. They were doll's eyes, two lustreless marbles that should have seemed blank, but were instead depthless. They stared at him unblinking, a terrible, overwhelming intelligence held aloft in their gaze.

_"In time, you will suffer greater than...this. And in...time you w-will come to understand why your services are required...or perhaps you will not. Either way, the wheel has now begun to turn, and neither you nor I can s-stop it. We can only merely slow its'...progress."_

He was standing close now, so close. The air between their bodies grew icy. Gordon would have felt goose bumps prickle his skin, had he been capable of feeling anything at that moment.

The man pulled at his pin-stripe tie, tugging it into position. The material creaked loudly in the dead air, and Gordon's heart ceased beating just as those same fingers glided forward, reaching across the very fabric of time itself.

_"My sincerest condolences for your loss."_

They ghosted over his hair, the briefest touch of cold skin against heated scalp.

Then like a slingshot everything snapped back into reality. A pain unlike anything he had ever known, unlike anything he had even been aware existed exploded inside his skull as images and data and numbers and faces beyond his comprehension poured like white-hot magma into his consciousness. It was too much and yet not enough, and even as his young mind tried to grasp onto what happening he felt his entire being consumed by it all, everything that he was erupting into ethereal flame.

His father's body slid down onto the dirty carpet, crumpled like a discarded piece of paper. Gordon threw back his head and screamed, and kept on screaming.

It would be the last sound he would ever make for a very long time.


End file.
